Snow
by Nyneve
Summary: Cagalli spends her Christmas Eve reflecting on her family, her world, and her views in life. One shot. AXC, mentioned KXL, MXS


I do not own Gundam Seed.

Snow

I know you'll be upset when you get home. I promised both of you that I wouldn't work late on Christmas Eve. And she'll tell you I lied. That she only saw me just now, as she was going off to bed hand in hand with Lillith, who, in turn, will tell you the same story. So yes, I admit it. I chose to spend the "most magical night of the year" sitting behind a desk signing papers instead of reading "'Twas the Night Before Christmas" to her. Instead of eating the Cornish game hens Lillith was working all day to prepare, I wolfed down a ham sandwich and a diet soda in the car while I was stuck in traffic (it was supposed to be my lunch, but I didn't get time to eat it).

I feel terrible. I know you wanted nothing more for Christmas than to be home with us this year. But hey, Lacus wants world peace. Ha ha ha.

That was a bad joke. I'm going to hell for that one.

I'd like to pretend the reason neither of us was home tonight was because of how fragile the world is right now. But I know that's not an excuse. Not for me. If necessary, I could have blown off work and come home. Or if I had planned better, maybe even pulled enough strings to bring you home to us. Then again, you being as duty bound as you are, I don't know if you would even come.

Do you remember what I said this past summer when you didn't come home for her birthday? I accused you of caring more about everyone else in the world than your own daughter. It's not true of course. But it sort of is. You would rather give up your life for a country of complete strangers than allow yourself the peace of being home with your family. Sometimes it's admirable, like when I get letters from Kira and the others out there on the battlefield with you. But right now, when I'm sitting here alone on the couch staring past the Christmas tree out into the snowy night, I hate it. I want to cry when I can't be sure whether you're safe or not.

You are one of the few people who has seen me cry.

Remember shortly after we met? Both of us thought you had killed Kira. And both of us cried. God, we cried so much. It's kind of embarrassing, now that I think of it. We barely knew each other, were almost enemies. And there we were, both crying over the same stupid but sweet guy who we loved, even though you had known him way longer than I had.

Kira brought us your gifts, by the way. They were lovely. She's nearly eight years old now, but Makeda still loves dolls. I went in to kiss her good night, but she had already fallen asleep, holding that doll close as possible. I wonder what she named it? Remember when she used to name them after all of the women in her life? The first one she named Makeda, the second one Lillith, then Lacus, then Miriallia, then Murrue. I don't think she ever named one Cagalli, but that's fine. I wouldn't want to share a name with a doll anyways. I wonder if the one you sent her is named Natarle?

She looked beautiful tonight. I think Lillith forgot to close the curtains in Makeda's room, or maybe she left them open so she could look for Santa. I remember doing that as a child. But when I went in there and saw the moonlight shining on her face, I could see you in it. She has the same shaped face as you, and such thick dark hair. And she has Kira's eyes, amethyst eyes. It's no surprise people have trouble believing she's my daughter. She looks nothing like me. But if anything, she at least got my temper, and enough tenacity not to be taken for a fool.

I don't like it that Makeda wants to follow in your—our—footsteps by becoming a soldier when she grows up. Of course, she also wants to be a singer, a teacher, an artist, and a veterinarian. All of which are fine. But I think of how old I feel now, spending every day with diplomats and generals and people wanting to show off their new mobile suit designs. If this war is still going on in ten years, and Makeda goes off to fight in it, how will I feel then? I think about what it would be like to lose my husband, my brother, and my daughter in the battlefield, and I can't move. I want to scream.

Part of me wants to be there with you. I may as well be. It's not like I'd be spending any less time with Makeda than I do. She probably loves the housekeeper more than me. And even though I do love her, I'm ashamed to admit that you're the one who's on my mind the most. How many months has it been since I've seen you, face to face? Six? Eight? You were here in spring, I think. Yes, I'm sure of it. Because you and Makeda and I went walking in the cherry tree grove that was planted near Orb's Parliament building. And there were pink petals everywhere. In our hair, stuck to our clothes and shoes, I even got one in my mouth when I was talking. You and Makeda laughed a long time after that. And so did I, once I got the petal out of my mouth.

Laughing like that made me feel like we were a family. A real family, Sai and Miriallia and their kids. Or Kira and Lacus. Her baby's due in February, did Kira mention? Our first nephew. I hope he and Makeda become friends, despite the age difference. Maybe if this war ends, we can all spend next Christmas together. Maybe go to Europe. Or maybe even to Tassil, to see Sahib and Ahmed's mother and everyone else. I know the desert has been quiet for a while; I'm sure it would be safe even if we went now. Maybe for my birthday…

Remember last Christmas? Now _that_ was one to remember. Let's see, what did we learn? Lizards do _not_ make good gifts for little girls (I hope you're still giving Dearka hell for that one), don't try sledding if there isn't any snow, and oh yes, I can't cook. I thought Lillith was going to kill me when she saw what I had done to the kitchen. But I swear, that woman is divinely gifted when it comes to making a gourmet meal in less than an hour. She enjoyed the photo album you sent her this year, by the way. She may just be the housekeeper, but you're like a son to her, and she likes seeing the places you've been. Me? I'd rather just see you.

That's the best Christmas gift you've ever given me. And even better, I got it twice. The first time was that Christmas just after the war had ended (the first war, anyways). You had brought me up to PLANT so that all of us, Kira, Lacus, you and me could all spend the holidays together. On Christmas morning, you got me up at sunrise, took me out in the garden, and gave me the ring I'm wearing at this very second. And what do you know? By your birthday, we were married. And by the next Christmas, I was pregnant with Makeda; one of the first healthy children born of a Coordinator/Natural union. She'll be famous for that alone. But I can't help thinking of your face when I told you. Yes, I'll admit I stole your idea of getting you up at a ridiculous hour on Christmas morning, but I know you didn't mind. Not when I told you I was four weeks pregnant with your child. You were thrilled, just as thrilled as I was to wake up last year on Christmas Eve morning with you laying next to me. I didn't know I was so heavy a sleeper that I didn't notice, but either way it was the best surprise you have ever planned.

But then came New Year's, and you returned to the battlefield, leaving Makeda with Lillith and me with my job as our only sources of comfort.

I hate war.

And yet it's stupid to think that what occurred nearly a decade ago would be the last one. Of course not. You can't end hatreds between races with one huge war. You don't end them at all. It's like cancer. One huge treatment won't do much more than kill you. You have to have a lot of smaller but still painful treatments in order just to subdue the cancer. We might have helped bring Coordinators and Naturals a little closer together, that's true. But we're not going to be able to end all of the hatred between them in our lifetime. Not unless someone ends up destroying the world to do so. I have hope though. Not for the soldiers or for the diplomats. I keep thinking about the emerging race, Makeda's race. The children born of Coordinator and Natural unions like ours. There aren't many of them right now, maybe a thousand in the world. But what about when they get married and have children? And when their children have children? Just think. In probably a hundred years, the blood of all the races could be so intermixed no one will know who to fight. And if we're lucky, there will be a few who realize that if there's no enemies, then there's no need to fight. That's what I hope.

I've never been really religious. One of my shortcomings, I guess. But ever since you went off to war five years ago, I sometimes pray. For you, for Kira and Lacus, for Makeda and Lillith. And on nights like this, when I'm all alone, I pray for myself. That I'll be able to get through until you come home. That I will learn how to be a better mother to Makeda, a better sister to Kira, a better friend to Lacus, and a better wife to you. I think the first three are improving, but I don't know about the last. I'm selfish; I'll be the first to admit that. I don't want you out there fighting, not for peace, not for Orb, not for me and Makeda. I just want you here, at home with me. Because I'm a better person when you're here.

I hope this war ends soon.

I hope you come back soon.

I hope you'll always know how much I love you.

Merry Christmas, Athrun.

And to the rest of the world, bah humbug.

**_Fine_**


End file.
